


Fair Trade

by spirograph



Category: South Park
Genre: Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-04
Updated: 2006-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirograph/pseuds/spirograph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cartman once joked that if Kenny ever crossed the threshold of their piss-ant town he’d probably die and never wake up. They don’t talk about it but Kyle’s pretty sure Kenny thinks about that a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fair Trade

Cartman once joked that if Kenny ever crossed the threshold of their piss-ant town he’d probably die and never wake up. They don’t talk about it but Kyle’s pretty sure Kenny thinks about that a lot. They walk the streets and Kenny stares toward the end of the road, toward the borderline, like he’s one step away from a full sprint to the end of whatever just to see what happens.

But of course when they do leave South Park nothing happens – well, Kenny dies a bit, but he wakes up too. Cartman looks disappointed every single time.

At the end of winter Kyle’s ears are a permanent shade of crimson and Kenny’s hair is brittle, snapping when Kyle twists it between his fingers. As the days pass his lips get chapped and they crack, tiny red slivers of blood shining bright on his pale mouth. 

When thin blades of green begin to poke through the melting snow Kenny’s eyes begin to loose their colour, fading from emerald to glassy gray, the pink beneath his fingernails turning almost completely white. The sun begins to shine a little more after that and when the lake starts to break up and liquefy Kenny gets weak, falling asleep in class and on Kyle’s shoulder during the bus ride home. Once safely inside Kyle’s house they kiss and Kenny tastes bitter; Kyle’s fingers leave indents and bruises where they’re wrapped around the other boy’s arm. 

Kyle thinks of Peter Pan, how Neverland lived within an endless winter when he went away and he wonders if that’s how Kenny’s death works, if maybe he plays some crucial part in the seasons. Kyle supposes it’s not like that at all, because Kenny dies all year round, seasonal change or no. It keeps him awake at night though, imagining the way they could go from place to place, bask in the sunshine and avoid the winter. Kyle thinks maybe that way Kenny would never die. 

It’s a Monday, a resurrection day, and they’re sitting on Kenny’s front step. “I like it when you’re the last thing I see, “ Kenny whispers through his parka, and Kyle doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s beginning to find it creepy, knowing the exact moment when Kenny dies without having to check for a pulse. He nods and lets Kenny move in closer, their arms press together and even through layers of winter clothing the heat of Kenny’s body gives him chills.

They don’t say a lot, there isn’t much to talk about in a town like theirs. They can hear the school bell ringing at 3pm and Kyle feels a little guilty; his mother’s going to scream at him for getting another call from the principle. Eventually Stan and Cartman turn up. Cartman throws a wad of written notes at them, “You missed math.” 

As they walk toward the arcade the clouds dissipate and Kenny says he can feel the sunshine from the inside, like it’s burning in his chest. Stan rolls his eyes and puts his headphones back on, not-so-subtly cranking up the volume. Cartman rips open another bag of extra-cheesy cheesy poofs and starts stuffing his face. “What does it feel like,” Kyle asks and Kenny just grins. 

Maybe Kyle thinks about it too much, but he’s pretty sure he’s figured it out: it’s a trade. Like when Kenny burned to death in a fire and his neighbour’s wife miraculously recovered from a deadly case of the chicken pox the next day. Or when the hurricane tearing through the state skipped over South Park completely the day he drowned in the new pool Butters’ parents built for the summer. Maybe it’s all coincidence but Kyle hates to think that Kenny constant death is meaningless. 

They sit on the floor at Kenny’s house on a Thursday, skipping school because detention is better than class and his parents don’t care, sucking on sugary ice pops even though the day is still freezing cold, sunlight hardly breaking through the thick cloud cover. “Dude, what the fuck is that,” Kyle says, pointing at Kenny’s naked chest - because he’s trying to catch pneumonia on purpose these days – where a small, strangely patterned spider is crawling over his skin. Kenny doesn’t say anything, just gazes down and blows slightly on the arachnid attached to his flesh. 

Kenny says “ouch” when the spider bites him, and Kyle’s pretty sure it’s the poisonous kind he saw a picture of in the newspaper, only it’s hard to tell because the picture was black and white and this bug is fucking red. Kenny says “this is new!” as his skin turns a weird shade of greenish-white and Kyle replies with his most unenthusiastic, “oh yay.” 

In the hospital an hour later Kenny starts to shake violently, eyes rolling back in his head and Kyle has to walk away. Mrs. Broslofski lectures him once he’s outside the emergency room, saying none of this would have happened if he’d been at school and Kyle blatantly ignores her, walking to the vending machine and digging a dollar out of his pockets for a chocolate bar.

He hears Kenny’s heart flat line from down the hall and breaks off another chunk of chocolate, popping it into his mouth and closing his eyes as it melts on his tongue. When the doctor arrives he puts his hand on Kyle’s shoulder, looking solemn and says “I’m sorry son, there was nothing we could do.” Kyle shrugs, brushing aside the usual feelings of panic and unnecessary guilt. “Yeah, whatever,” he replies, and makes his way outside through the sterile green hallways, sitting on the front steps of the hospital in the twilight to finish his candy bar. 

Kenny climbs through his window that night, eyes glowing blue and the hair hanging down over his face is healthy with a definite shine. He shucks his parka and t-shirt revealing a pale expanse of flawless chest without any sign that he was bitten. Kyle tries to pretend he’s unimpressed, completely cool with the day’s events but he shudders despite himself and it feels like a hundred thousand tiny insect legs are scrabbling for purchase in his throat. Kenny climbs beneath the sheets and says “Wouldn’t it be awesome if it had been a mutant spider,” and Kyle nods, easing his arm under the other boys shoulder, automatically shifting closer and coiling himself around Kenny’s body. “I could be like Spiderman,” Kenny whispers, his voice muffled where his lips press against Kyle’s side. 

“That’d be pretty cool,” Kyle says eventually. When Kenny kisses him he doesn’t taste like anything, he’s just wet and cool and there. Kyle pictures the spider that took Kenny’s life, lying motionless on the lawn where he left it once he’d scraped it from his boot; how tomorrow South Park will be full of blooming flowers, nesting birds and the fresh, clean smell of spring. He wonders how long Kenny’s life will last this time; he supposes it’s a fair trade.


End file.
